


It’s Not Guilt

by ladydragon76



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Genre: PWP, M/M, Rating: NC-17 - Freeform, character: perceptor, genre: angst, genre: drama, smut: sticky, verse: idw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-06
Updated: 2015-05-06
Packaged: 2018-03-29 06:22:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3885679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladydragon76/pseuds/ladydragon76
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Summary:</b> Kup’s a bit worried about Perceptor after that whole… thing on Turmoil’s ship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It’s Not Guilt

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Fulcrumisthebomb](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fulcrumisthebomb/gifts).



> **‘Verse:** IDW  
>  **Series:** None  
>  **Rating:** NC-17  
>  **Characters:** Kup/Perceptor  
>  **Warnings:** Sticky  
>  **Notes:** Tumblr did a thing, so I ended up taking some Kup prompts. [Here’s one](http://ladydragon76.tumblr.com/post/118002567440/i-would-die-for-some-kup-perceptor-maybe-kup) from allthefandomz who wanted Perceptor and Kup.

Kup entered Perceptor’s quarters without knocking. He knew the mech wouldn’t answer if he had, and this was one of those conversations that needed to happen whether the participants liked it or not. Pits, Kup would rather not have to say the things he was going to, but they needed said before Perceptor -the one from before Turmoil’s ship- was unsalvageable.

“I did not invite you in,” Perceptor said without looking up from the rifle barrel he was cleaning.

“Didn’t ask.” Kup crossed to the berth and sat beside the scientist-turned-sniper, and for a moment, just watched the smooth, sure movements. “Ya weren’t useless before, ya know?”

“But I _was_ helpless.”

“Now you’re not.” Kup leaned to the side, resting on one hand, while the other plucked the cygar from his mouth. He poked it toward Perceptor. “Not very happy though.”

“I have not been happy in a long time,” Perceptor replied, finally looking up. “I do not know of anyone who truly is.”

Kup shrugged at that. “Fair enough. But you’re more miserable than ya were before then. How’s that? Worried about ya, kid. You’ve changed.”

Perceptor’s optics narrowed, the one behind the fancy targeting reticule only just visible. “Yes. I’ve been told. I defiled myself.”

Kup snorted and shoved the cygar back into his mouth. “I didn’t mean physically. I meant _you_. Near death’ll do that to a mech, which is why I’ve waited. Was tryin’ ta let you sort yourself out, but it ain’t working. You’re closed off. You’re distant.”

“And you are… worried?” Perceptor asked, his tone full of mocking disbelief.

“Course I am.” Kup waited, simply gazing back at Perceptor.

“Since when?” Perceptor asked in a growl.

“Since always,” Kup replied. “One of mine even if ya think not.”

“I’ve never seen you leave one of the others behind,” Perceptor said coolly and went back to cleaning the rifle.

Kup plucked the gun away and set it off to the side, because there it was. “When was the last time ya saw one of the others get most of his chest and face blown off?”

“Ah. So it’s to be excuses to assuage your guilt.” Perceptor folded his hands in his lap, turned slightly toward Kup, and met his gaze with that impassive, emotionless stare he had perfected of late.

“It ain’t guilt, kid. We’re Wreckers. We die.” Kup gestured to Perceptor’s chest and the reticule. “These aren’t bad changes if you want to stay on the team. What’s got me worried ain’t the mods. It ain’t the anger. It’s that you’re pulling away. It’s that ya think that because we left, because you were as good as dead at the moment and we had a job to do, that you mean nothing to us. To me.”

“That is still an excuse.”

“It’s a reason,” Kup replied. “Had it been Blurr or Blaster or Springer with half his face and chest missin’, I’d’ve left him too. It’s cold, but that’s bein’ a Wrecker. No matter how much a mech means to me, if he’s down and I can’t get him back on his feet with a strong tug, I step over him and order the others to, too.” The cygar was taken from his mouth again for the sole purpose of pointing it at Perceptor. “You ain’t special, kid. I don’t like ya less than the others.” Kup chewed the end of the cygar, and then grinned. “Can even prove it if ya want.”

“Prove… it?” Perceptor shook his helm, optics falling to the rifle on Kup’s far side. “I know I’m not special. Even now, I just do not ever want to be a burden again.” His field drew in, shoulders hunched the barest bit. “I believe I have already proven I am not anyone important.”

“I said special, as in- compared to the other Wreckers’ lives. That’s equal. We’re all fodder, kid, but each of ya is important to me.” Kup pulled the cygar out of his mouth again, but this time he shoved it into his subspace and leaned close to Perceptor. “Ya won’t be the first I have to explain the difference to. Only question is how you want shown.”

Perceptor blinked. “Shown?”

Kup reached out and trailed a hand up Perceptor’s thigh.

“Oh. _Shown_.” Perceptor was quiet for a moment, and Kup let him think it through.

“Don’t have to.” He shrugged and leaned back. “Just an offer. It’s helped the others now and then, but it’s not a fix everything every time kinda deal.”

“You have… interfaced with the others? To make them… feel better?” Perceptor sounded more and more doubtful as he spoke. He _looked_ even more so.

“Yeah.” Kup turned more toward Perceptor, pulling one knee up onto the berth. “Like I said though. No pressure.”

Perceptor stared for a moment, disbelief and surprise in his field as it edged out just a little. Then curiosity. “So, you have taken a page from Blurr’s book?”

Kup threw his head back and laughed. “No, I wrote the book,” he said, still chuckling. “It’s an open offer too. If ya need a little attention, my door’s open.” He moved to stand, but didn’t even get his weight shifted forward before Perceptor gripped his upper arm.

“I…” Perceptor’s optics dimmed and his face heated. “I don’t want to take advantage.”

“Ain’t takin’ advantage. I offered.” Kup resettled himself on the berth and faced Perceptor. “Ya know, there’s something to be said for interfacin’ just to build a team bond.”

Perceptor’s mouth twisted to the side in what was almost a wry smile. “No wonder everyone likes Blurr.”

“No wonder everyone tolerates him when he gets twitchy,” Kup corrected. “Should give the kid a wink sometime. He’ll blow your circuits.” He grinned. “Enthusiastic. That’s the word for that one.”

Perceptor almost smiled. His face softened, and his optics brightened just a little. “So what… I mean…”

Blunt. Kup liked being blunt and honest. “Figured I’d suck your spike if ya like that sorta thing. It’s an easy place to start.”

Heat flared darker in Perceptor’s face. “D-do you?”

“Course. Wouldn’t offer if I didn’t enjoy it.” Kup motioned Perceptor to lie back on the berth, and when the mech did, he grabbed his ankles and tugged his aft closer. “Can change your mind. Seem a bit nervous.”

“I… would not mind some team bonding exercises,” Perceptor said slowly. “I just don’t do this sort of thing often. With another mech, I mean.” He blinked, then his face flushed even darker as he realized what he implied.

Kup snickered. “Ain’t no shame in that either.” He wasn’t the romantic sort, and Perceptor didn’t seem to be looking for that kind of thing, so Kup simply arranged himself between the mech’s thighs and licked a swath across his panel. It was hot, and he could already smell the arousal. It twisted in Perceptor’s field, and all it took was a second slow lick to get his panel to spring open.

Perceptor’s spike pressurized eagerly, proving that nervousness, shyness, and whatever else the mech might be feeling, he was definitely interested in this. It took a moment, some teasing nibbles around the edge of the array, and Kup wedging a shoulder under his thigh, but Perceptor did relax. Kup dragged his lips up the length of the spike, then gave Perceptor a smirk before opening his mouth and scraping the surface lightly with his teeth. Vents hitched and caught, and Perceptor’s optics had darkened and dimmed so much they almost looked offline. He was watching, Kup knew, and so he made a show of playing around the sides of the spike. Each ridge was shown attention until a fine tremor ran along Perceptor’s thighs with every swipe of Kup’s tongue. Perceptor’s vents ran hard, and when Kup _finally_ closed his mouth over the end and drew the spike into his mouth, a low, soft moan escaped the mech’s tight control.

Kup worked him unrelentingly after that. Perceptor was quiet for the most part. His mouth was open, optics dark and wide as he watched. The only sounds in the room was their respiration running full bore, and the wet slide of Kup’s mouth over the spike.

“Kup,” Perceptor whispered in warning, his joints beginning to tense.

Kup took that as notification to draw harder, but go slower. His tongue curved along the length, fingers wrapped around the base and squeezing rhythmically. Perceptor gasped, his plating flared, and then energy rushed from his field and through Kup’s as hot spurts of transfluid made his spike twitch and throb. He sunk back against his berth, a real moan rumbling up from somewhere deep in his chest, and Kup eased off gently.

“Ok?”

“Very ok,” Perceptor replied, voice breathless.

Kup chuckled, and wiped his fingers along the corners of his mouth. “Feelin’ more team bonded?”

Perceptor peeped open an optic, his face flushing hot again. “Mind-bending overloads don’t really fix anything.”

“Maybe not.” Kup shrugged, leaned forward to kiss the inside of Perceptor’s knee, then stood. “But your field’s more relaxed, and maybe this time when I say it, ya might believe me just a little bit.” He paused, optics meeting Perceptor’s so the mech could read the sincerity. “I care about ya, kid. The job’s the job. It’s sparkless and cruel, and there might come a day where I have to step over your dying body again. Might come a day you have to step over mine. Or Springer’s. Or Drift’s. Or Blurr’s. Or Whirl’s. Doesn’t change that I care and don’t _want_ it to happen, but it might. Risk we all take here. Yeah?”

Perceptor stared back for a moment, then nodded.

Kup let himself out, then went to find that randy little Racer. He’d be a good one to set on the ‘team bonding’ mission, though Kup would warn him to go easy on Perceptor. Offer, not tackle.


End file.
